


Clockwork Heart

by veridian



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Coping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, the kids aren't alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 23:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20514908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veridian/pseuds/veridian
Summary: In which Mika has known all along that Mademoiselle and Shu are two parts of the same person.It can be interpreted as shippy, but it isn't overtly romantic. Mostly, it's just Mika being.......Mika.





	Clockwork Heart

**Author's Note:**

> ive given up understanding how my drive for writing works at this point. stan talent, stan valkyrie.

It has been weeks. Maybe months, even, but time is meaningless without Valkyrie, and so the doll awaiting his master’s return has no sense of how much time has truly passed; his gears have wound down to silence.

Mika’s head is full of holes, but he always thought that not even he would ever forget what Shu sounds like. Today, though, feels like it might be the day that he does; again, for what seems like the thousandth time, he gazes listlessly toward the wall, barely even moving to acknowledge Mika’s presence.

“M’back, Oshi-san,” he says anyway, giving him a smile. “How’re ya feelin’ today? Ya up to eatin’ somethin’?”

A slight shake of the head. Well, it’s better than nothing.

“Ya sure?”

When Shu nods slightly, Mika sighs and falls in a heap at the edge of his bed, the same way he always does. Shu ignores him, the same way he always does.

He wonders how long it’s going to go on like this.

“Hey, Oshi-san,” he says, glancing up at him. “Ya get any sleep today, either?”

He thinks he sees Shu glance toward him for just a moment, but maybe that’s wishful thinking. In any case, the only sound is the ticking of the clock perched on Shu’s nightstand, so Mika hauls himself back up to his feet, stretching out his arms. “Lemme know if you want some candy or anythin’, yeah, Oshi-san? I had a little bitta time, so I stopped by, but…I really gotta get to work. I’ll be back again tonight, ‘kay?” He searches Shu’s face for any sign of acknowledgement, but finds nothing. Sighing, he looks around the room, following his vacant gaze, and mismatched eyes settle upon something.

“Here, I bet she’ll make ya feel better.” Mika carefully picks up the doll on Shu’s desk, display case and all, and sets it on the nightstand instead. “Mado-nee’s always been one’a yer favorites, right?”

He’d been hoping putting his own worthless hands on even Mademoiselle’s _case_ would be enough to rile Shu into responding, even if it set him into a furor like it used to. But still, nothing happens; there is not even a flicker of anger in Shu’s eyes as he quietly looks over at the doll.

He looks as empty as the void that resounds in Mika’s chest as he sighs and leaves the room. It pains him to leave Shu like this, but despite its weak, slow heartbeat, Valkyrie is still alive. As long as Shu is, so too is the art he used to work so hard to create. And that means that eventually, once he’s feeling better—surely, any day now—they’ll need the money Mika’s been stashing away since Valkyrie stopped performing.

When he returns that evening, exhausted and cradling a haphazardly-crafted bento box Arashi threw together for him—ignoring her advice that it wasn’t enough for two people, so he should just eat it all, ignoring the worry in her eyes, ignoring the way she pressed it into his hands with the same kind of desperation he feels when he tries to get Shu to eat, too—he thinks what he hears is some sort of hallucination. Perhaps he really has gone too long without eating something, he thinks, to be hearing Shu’s voice again.

He’s pleased he hadn’t forgotten, after all.

It gets louder as he trudges over to the bedroom door, and when he pops it open, intruding as thoughtlessly as always, Mademoiselle is perched on his hand just like always, and he’s talking to her.

Or at least he was, Mika notes, because he snaps his mouth shut mid-sentence.

This in itself isn't strange, and if anything, he's relieved to see him engaging in even one of his more eccentric behaviors. Talking to his dolls means less time dwelling on his pain, after all, and he grins to see that there's anything at all to interrupt going on.

“Aw, c’mon, Oshi-san,” Mika says. “I know I shoulda knocked, but y’know what they say…’bout opportunity? Izzat how it goes?”

“Opportunity seldom knocks twice,” comes the response, a falsetto tone and a waggle of the doll’s head in Shu’s hand. He turns his gaze toward her, surprised.

Mika might be an idiot, but even a garbage-filled head like his can keep some things stuck inside of it. He knows that the only doll in Shu's collection that can talk, for better or for worse, is himself. For all that Shu mentioned he used to speak to his collection of antiques, his ventriloquism seems to have fallen out of practice; his voice, too, cracks uncomfortably after weeks of disuse.

Mika feels, rather than sees, the anxiety building in every bone in Shu’s body, because the atmosphere is suddenly so overwhelming that he dare not look back over at him. If he does, he’s certain that something that can’t be fixed will shatter into a million pieces, just like a beautiful, fragile antique.

So Mika’s eyes brighten, and he keeps his gaze on the doll, and he nods. “Yeah, that sounds ‘bout right! Shoulda expected such a good friend of Oshi-san to be smart as he is.” He scratches the back of his head. “This is the first time we’ve talked, right? I’m Kagehira Mika, an’ I’m another one o’ Oshi-san’s dolls.”

“I know,” Mademoiselle replies. “Shu-kun talks so much about you, Mika-chan!”

“Eh…he does? What kinda things does he say about me?” He leans in, an excited grin on his face.

“You mustn’t put such thoughts in this doll’s empty head, Mademoiselle!” Shu exclaims, and Mika’s heart swells at the sound of him speaking, even if it isn’t to him. “Leading him to what is undoubtedly a mistaken conclusion will only make his reaction when he learns the truth all the more wretched, you understand!”

“Nnah…then, Oshi-san, what’re you sayin’ about me…?”

Rather than answer him directly, Mademoiselle pipes up. “Shu-kun was just telling me about how hard you’ve been working to check up on him. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“Absolutely not!” Shu retorts to—himself? To Mademoiselle? Mika doesn't really get it, but it doesn’t really matter either, not when it’s leaps and bounds better than the weeks of relentless silence from the most beautiful voice in Yumenosaki. “This worthless patchwork pile of scrap has gotten it into his head that he can do whatever he wants, simply because I find myself in a rut…! The very thought of him attempting to move by himself is irritating.”

“S’fer the good o’ Valkyrie, though,” Mika reminds him. “Even if I’m not too good at doin’ anythin’ myself, I’m better at stuff like pickin’ up garbage than I am at writin’ music an’ makin’ costumes. Ya gotta get yer rest so ya can go back to makin’ the art that Valkyrie blesses the world with, right? So ‘til then, I’ll be doin’ my best too, to make sure that when yer inspiration comes back, ya won’t be held back by anythin’.”

“Thank you, Mika-chan,” Mademoiselle says gently. “From me, and from Shu-kun.”

He glances over at Shu’s face just quickly enough to catch Shu averting his own gaze and smiles brightly. Violet eyes briefly flicker back over to meet mismatched ones, and Shu huffs in a breath in response as he looks away again, cheeks turning faintly pink in what Mika is sure must be frustration.

Even so, it feels warm.

“Yer welcome, then. The both of ya.” He turns back to Mademoiselle, then holds out the bento Arashi made for him. “But, y’know, Mado-nee, maybe ya can help me convince Oshi-san that he’s gotta eat?”

“You need to eat something too, Mika-chan.”

“Then we’ll share Naru-chan’s bento an’ we’ll both eat a little bit that way. I don’ think Oshi-san would be very happy with my cookin’.”

“Well, Shu-kun? We don’t want Mika-chan’s efforts to go to waste, do we?”

“Very well,” he sighs, “but at least let me bathe first. Kagehira has been doing it for me, and if his efforts are any indication of his own habits, he should have a bath this evening as well. A long one.”

“H-Hey, Oshi-san, I was always way more careful with ya than I am with me,” Mika protests.

“Then that is all the more reason to bathe! Properly, as I lack the stamina to do it for you this time!”

Shu stumbles as he climbs out of bed; Mika is there to catch him, as he always plans to be, buzzing with happiness over finally being acknowledged directly. The weight of Shu on his shoulder as he helps him stand on legs still shaky from weeks and weeks of listlessness feels like a blessing; the smell of Shu’s favorite soap lingering in the bathroom as Mika takes his turn is nothing short of heavenly. Arashi’s bento, bland and clumsily made on purpose, inspires nothing but disgust from Shu, who eats it anyway after some chiding from Mademoiselle, but to Mika, it tastes of the finest ichor, and the sound of Shu’s voice is the essence of music itself. For the first time in a long time, he is home, even if it’s slightly different from the home he’d been acquainted to before.

He goes to bed that night with hope nestled firmly in his heart; someday—any day now—Shu will take his measurements again, Shu will reach for his sewing needle again, Shu will stride forward to reclaim the throne of Yumenosaki that rightfully belongs to him.

Time has been meaningless without Valkyrie. Tonight, Mika feels his clockwork heart begin to tick again.


End file.
